


The Long Road

by Lawral



Category: NCIS
Genre: Adoption, Edited, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Original Child Character(s) - Freeform, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22671826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lawral/pseuds/Lawral
Summary: McGee is about to embark on the longest, toughest road he could possibly think of in hopes to find a happy ending.
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Timothy McGee stared at his computer screen, his chin resting against the knuckles of his hands. This had to be the hardest part. How could he write about himself and his life in the hopes that someone would feel some connection to him and pick his file out of the numerous others that he was sure existed. He watched as the curser blinked at him as if it was tormenting him for not being able to write anything that sounded remotely interesting. This was the first step in his plan and it seemed the most crucial. If he messed these few paragraphs up, his hopes would dwindle to nothing. It had been a hard decision in the first place. Not in the way of actually attempting it but in the fact that he was attempting it on his own. 

All of his research had shown him that while singles were now widely accepted as adoptive parents, single men were highly scrutinized on such a decision. He’d found that there would be many questions as to why a single man would want to adopt. His sexual orientation would be questioned, as if he didn’t have to argue that fact enough. 

Tim sat back in his chair and rolled his head around in a circle, feeling it crack in several places. He’d already been staring at the blank document for half-an-hour, that curser blinking up at him the entire time. He reached his hands up into the air and stretched with a loud groan. He ran his hands down his face, moistened his lip and pulled his shirt back down before resting his hands on the keyboard again. Yet still no words would flow from his hands as they did so effortlessly while writing Deep Six and Rock Hollow. This piece of writing would contribute to his future. He sighed and started free writing, hoping that whatever came out would sound good. 

_My name is Timothy McGee. I’m an educated, hardworking, single man. I’ve come to realize that I’ve made my life work and there is so much more to life than doing a job and collecting a check. There are so many more marvels the world has to show and I hope to enjoy as many of them as I can._

_I have two jobs that give me great pleasure. Naval Criminal Investigative Service Special Agent by day and mystery novelist by night. I know that it might sound intimidating and that I have no free time. I actually have more free time than a civilian might think. My job, like any other, does have its pros and cons but it is what I pledged my life and my entire education to._

_My immediate family consists of my parents and a younger sister, Sarah. We are all looking forward to having a new member of the family joining us around the holiday tables._

Tim stopped and read over his last paragraph. Why had he lied to someone he’d never met before? Why had he stated that his family was anticipating another family member when they didn’t even know of the journey he was taking to adopt a child? He couldn’t imagine that they’d doubt his decision; Sarah might make fun of him for about five minutes. When all was said and done, he loved her and she really loved him too. She would make fun of him until she realized that he was serious and after that, he was sure, she’d be right at his side offering support and an open ear when he needed to talk out his doubts. That was Sarah in a nutshell; the crazy younger sister who dove him mad with her taunting, confided in him with almost anything that was bugging her and loved him, looked up to him as a brother and as an honest person. 

He nodded his head. He’d leave the sentences. He would tell his family, eventually, about his quest. His friends would be another story. 

_My “family” also includes many of my colleagues. They are the greatest group of people anyone could ask for. They, honestly, could be a bit unusual and intimidating to a stranger's eye but they’ve always had my back and I’ve had theirs. In our job, you bond quickly and it lasts through many professional quarrels or private ones._

_I can assure you, being a single man, there would be plenty of women in my support circle. My sister is young, vibrant and full of life. What more could a child ask for in an aunt? My female coworkers are strong, independent and brilliant. Abby is a scientist who specializes in forensics._

He stopped typing again. How could he describe Ziva and not scare the woman who might choose him as the father of her child? He loved Ziva; she was one of his closest friends and until now, he’d never thought that she could affect something that meant so much to him. He decided to leave it blank for a moment. He could figure out how to describe her later. Yet he couldn’t help but notice that the paragraph felt interrupted. He’d said coworkers plural. He couldn’t just describe one and leave the other in the wind. No, he needed to figure out how to describe her. 

_Ziva has already bypassed milestones Americans take for granted. She’s survived to reach the age of twenty-eight. Where she’s from that is probably considered a huge accomplishment. She’s both sides of a coin; protective and sensitive but tough and no-nonsense._

_Gibbs and Tony are two of the greatest guys I could have by my side. Tony had been part of a handful of the best police forces out there before finding his place at NCIS. Gibbs is an ex-Marine sniper. We all look up to him as more than just the boss of our team._

_My home life is conventional. I currently live in a small apartment with my dog, Jethro._

Again, he stopped his typing and reread the last line. Two words seemed to haunt it: small apartment. 

“I need a bigger apartment.” McGee said to his computer screen. 

Jethro got to his feet and joined Tim’s side. The dog looked up to the computer screen and then laid his head in Tim’s lap. He whined again, trying to get his master’s attention; when he was unsuccessful, he lifted his head slightly and barked once. Tim looked down to the dog’s warm brown eyes looking up at him and he pet his head. 

“Ok, ok. I know. Go get your leash.” McGee told the dog. 

McGee got to his feet and went into his bedroom to grab his shoes and a jacket. He turned off the bedroom light and grabbed his cell phone and keys off his writing desk. Jethro was waiting as patiently as a dog who knew he was on his way for a walk could. McGee could hear Jethro whimpering as he turned the remaining lights off except for the lamp on his desk. He took the least off the hook by the door and clipped it on a waiting, anxious dog. The pair locked the apartment door and walked down the hall to the elevator. 

The night's air was slightly cool and spring was definitely on its way to DC. Tim took Jethro down the usual route that took them down the block and around a corner to the dog’s “favorite tree” and then back home. It had seemed that he and Jethro weren’t the only ones who had gone for an early evening walk. 

Tim saw several couples out for a walk or returning from shopping. One young girl was huddled close to the young man walking with her, their hands holding on to each other. Tim smiled softly as he passed them and Jethro sniffed in their direction for a moment. Everything had just seemed lighter and more carefree after he’d made his decision to adopt. Tim saw the world in a new light. 

He’d contacted the local adoption agency and had spoken to a woman. Their first meeting had been nerve-wracking at first, but as she assured him that lots of single men and women chose to adopt every year. She’d given him a checklist and several documents to research the different types of adoption. The heap of papers had seemed intimidating at first. He had taken them home and read through several “success stories” before deciding he wanted an independent open adoption. The idea the birth mother or parents and families could still be part of the child’s life appealed to Tim. 

Jethro had tugged on the least catching McGee’s attention when he’d tried to pass the tree up. He voiced his apology to the dog and waited for him to do his business and investigate the new smells on his tree.

His mind returned to the next thing on his checklist. He had spoken to his attorney and was excited to hear that she could also help him with the adoption legalities. He was now working on his profile for a binder at the agency and one that would go up on a special webpage. He thought about taking a few photos of the team from his computer at work to tag along with those of himself and his family. 

“Ok, come on. Jethro.” The dog was still sniffing at the tree, making sure he’d covered the other scents. “Jethro, come on, let’s go home.”

The walk back to the apartment had been just as quiet as the walk to the tree. Jethro waited patiently alongside Tim for the elevator to take them up to the second floor where his apartment was located. Once inside the elevator, Tim unhooked Jethro’s leash and hung it around his neck. Jethro always ran out of the elevator and to the door, dragging McGee behind him. Tim found it much more enjoyable to just let the dog off the least so he could keep his shoulder inside its socket. 

The doors opened and Jethro ran from the small room and to the door at the end of the small hall. He jumped up and pawed at the front door and whined again. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” McGee said, pulling the keys from his pocket and unlocking the door. 

Jethro ran inside and to his food and water bowls. He sniffed at them expectantly and barked again when he found them empty. McGee chuckled to himself as he bent down to pick them up. He took them to the kitchen and filled each bowl. 

“When are you going to learn that the bowls don’t magically fill themselves while we’re out on a walk?”

Tim put the bowls down and pat Jethro’s head before returning to the computer. He read over the last sentence he’d written and sighed once more. He looked around his tiny apartment. It was enough for him and Jethro, but he wouldn’t have room for any of the paraphernalia that went along with having a child.

Jethro had finished his nightly meal and again joined Tim’s side. He pat the dog’s head again and scratched at his ears lazily. He looked down to the dog and spoke directly to him once more. 

“We need a bigger apartment.”


	2. Chapter Two

McGee looked at the email with a mixture of worry and interest. It had been sent innocently enough by Abby and he had started to sent it to the trash before deciding to take a quick glance down the list of stress factors. He hadn’t really been thinking much about it until he got to one particular stressful life events.

_17\. Becoming a single parent_

He’d already known that his decision of being a single father could be a stressful one, but seeing it so high on a list seemed surreal. He’d been _told_ that adopting could be stressful. There was so much scrutiny on an applicant and making sure they were the right person to raise a child. Sure, he had no experience with children, but he hoped to change that fact. 

He’d been reading over the rest of the list without really seeing it. His list of “to-do’s” included trying to find a bigger apartment and making sure it looked and felt like a home to both him and the child he hoped he’d one day bring home. His mind had become consumed on a little McGee running through his house. 

_40\. Change in residence_

He deleted the message without reading any further. He didn’t need to be worrying about how much stress he was piling on himself. He had to focus on the long-term and reaching the goal he’d set for himself. He looked up to see Ziva returning from lunch run and she stopped at Tony’s desk to serve the sandwiches she’d bought and quickly noticed McGee’s agitation.

“Are you alright, McGee?”

He nodded his head and took the sandwich she was holding out to him. He got to his feet and went to Tony’s desk, sandwich in hand, and pulled out one drink from the cardboard carrier. He returned to his desk and started unwrapping his lunch before vocalizing his well being.

“I’m fine. Just looking forward to looking at a new apartment after work.”

“You’re getting a new apartment? Why? Think your nerd corner and the electric table is cramping your chance with the ladies? Cause that’s not true.”

McGee looked to Tony with a soft expression. Tony had done nothing but make fun of him for years, and now he was telling him he wasn’t such a bad guy. “Well thanks, Tony.”

“Yeah, what’s killing your chances with women is… when you’re being you.” Tony smiled playfully. 

McGee rolled his eyes and returned to his lunch. He looked down to the clock on his computer as he opened the document he’d coded so that he could check off the next thing on his to-do list with no one knowing what it was about.

_Two hours… and I can look at the apartment._

He had jinxed himself; Gibbs walked in moments after and told them they had a dead marine. He got to his feet and grabbed his sidearm and clipped it to his belt. Leaving his drink, he took a quick bite from his burger and then left behind the others to the elevators. 

The crime scene was clean. The victim, Petty Officer Blaine, had been shot in the head as he sat in his living room. To Palmer it looked like a suicide, but they would still investigate until they proved it to be a suicide. The team had sketched, shot, measured and collected all evidence. An hour later, the team was on their way back home from the crime scene. He had used the privacy of the back seat and the ride back to the Navy Yard to call his landlord and reschedule for the next morning. 

“Thanks, David. You don’t know how sorry I am about having to do this. I really appreciate it.”

Gibbs had put the team on their divided chores of the case and then left for more coffee. McGee had been given checking in the evidence and taking the weapon and contents of the coffee table to Abby for analysis.

He got off the elevator and could hear the welcoming, and by this point, usual blast of some heavy metal band he’d hardly ever heard of. Abby was at her computer looking at her latest grotesque photograph and sipping on an ever-present Caf-Pow!

“Hey, McGee.” She said as she saw him walk in. She held her hands out to the monitor with a look on her face, as if showing off some priceless masterpiece. “Whaddya think?”

Tim cocked his head to the left, thinking he might figure it out with a change of his eye-level. “What is it?”

Abby’s face fell slightly, punching his arm lightly. It was an act that told him the answer was probably obvious in Abby’s mind, but to him it could be one of a thousand different injuries. 

“It’s called ‘Fire poker to the heart.’ Cool, huh?”

“Cool?”

“Well, more like ironic, cause they heated the fire poker before plunging it in the heart but-,” She turned back to the computer and continued to admire the mess. 

McGee shifted his feet as he watched her for a moment and then cleared his throat, setting down the box of evidence he’d toted along. Abby turned and her look of glee returned as she joined him to take evidence bags out of the box. 

“Ooh, you didn’t tell me you had goodies. So what do we got?”

McGee explained the case they’d pieced together from the crime scene and told her that Gibbs wanted everything tested. He then pulled out the laptop they’d found in the victim’s bedroom and hooked it up to see if he’d kept anything on it. 

“What makes Gibbs think this is a murder case?” Abby thought as she put on gloves to take the gun out of its protective bag. 

“You know Gibbs. The whole, NCIS investigates suicides as homicides until proven otherwise. He wants you to test the weapon and make sure it’s our murder weapon.”

“Well, I can’t test the bullet until Ducky sends it to me. Unless, did you recover a shell casing?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s in the box.” McGee has sunk himself in the Petty Officer’s computer. 

Hours later, McGee entered his apartment and sank into computer chair as Jethro bounced around. They had ruled the case a suicide. The gun had been the murder weapon, they had found gun powder residue on the victim’s hands and face. The motive had been depression brought on by stresses at work and his girlfriend breaking up with him for his roommate. 

Abby had tried to talk him into going out with the rest of the hang for Friday night after-work drinks but he had declined, repeatedly, saying that he had a lot of stuff to do that night and Jethro would be waiting for his nightly walk. She let him slide at the mention of Jethro and had pounced on Ziva as she had tried to sneak out of the bullpen. 

Jethro calmed a little and nudged Tim’s hand with his snout and grunted quietly. Tim smiled as he saw the dog run toward the door and jump up to attempt to knock his leash off the hook by the door and come back to nudge his hand again. 

“Ok, ok. I know. Let’s go, real fast, ok?” Tim told the dog as he collected his cell phone, keys and the leash.

He continued his nightly routine of feeding, watering and patting Jethro’s head as he returned to his computer. Turning the monitor on his letter to the birth mother was still there, with the cursor was still blinking at him. He read over the last line again, thinking hopefully tomorrow he could edit it and sent it off to the administrator at the agency.   
He was still working on the next step of the list, and he’d already added an unexpected move. He could only remind himself that he’d need the extra space anyhow. He only had one bedroom, and his living room was non-existent. He was trying to bring a baby into his house; to do that, he’d need to stop living like a bachelor. 

The next morning he woke early and took Jethro for his morning walk, feed him and filled the water bowl before grabbing his keys and phone. He walked downstairs to the apartment that the manager, David, lived in and knocked on the door. David was a man of roughly McGee’s age. He was divorced and lived alone aside from the weekend visits with his two girls. 

“Morning Tim. You ready to see that apartment?” David asked, fishing a key off the wall next to his door. 

“I am.” McGee smiled. 

The Dear Birth Mother letter and getting a bigger place was his priorities for the weekend. He hoped that after this morning he’d be finishing up his letter and beginning to pack away his belongings to move to a new apartment.

David let them up the elevator to the third floor. McGee followed him to a door at the end of the hall and a bright gold number hanging on the door, 8. He opened the door and waited for McGee to enter. McGee noticed that the apartment looked just like the one he lived in. 

“Are you sure this is a two bedroom?”

David chuckled a little. “I know, the living area looks like the ones in the one-bedroom apartments. The difference is that the door that would lead to the bedroom in a one leads to a small hallway that has the two bedrooms and a bath.”

McGee walked through the apartment and tried to get a feel of the place, picturing his furniture in the different rooms and Jethro running around claiming the house as his. However, no matter how hard Tim tried, the apartment just didn’t scream to him it was where he’d raise his child. 

McGee returned to his apartment after thanking David for letting him look. He walked inside and sat down at his writing desk and looked out the small window. He didn’t really have much of a view, but he wasn’t really looking at anything, anyway. He rose to his feet again and called to Jethro.

“Come on, boy. Let’s go for a drive.”

Jethro came bounding from the bedroom and sat next to the door patiently as Tim shook his head with a pleased smile. For a dog whom he hadn’t wanted to take in, they’d definitely bonded. Tim hooked the leash onto Jethro’s collar and they left for Tim’s car to take a leisurely drive around Silver Spring to clear Tim’s head. 

_14\. Becoming a single parent_

The words still haunted him. This was what he wanted. He wanted to adopt a child, to raise on his own. He had decided but seeing it written out under Stressful Life Event list out of his mind. He would be fine. He had plenty of support once he got the nerve to tell everyone.

He stopped alongside a curb to try to focus himself before continuing down the road. Somehow he’d found himself in a residential neighborhood. He had pulled up in front of a Cape-style home with blue paint and white trim. However, what McGee saw was the “For Sale” sign in the yard. 


	3. Chapter 3

McGee pulled up to the house the next day. He sat in the car and looked down to his watch. He was early, as usual. He couldn’t believe what he was thinking. He’d gone from searching for a bigger apartment to looking at a house? Was he really ready to be a homeowner? He supposed that it couldn’t be any different from attempting to be a single father. 

He looked up as he heard a horn honk and a car pull into the driveway. A woman got out of the driver side and waved for him to join her. McGee took a deep breath and climbed out of his car. He joined her at the front door and held out his hand in greeting. 

She took his offered hand and smiled. “Mr. McGee, I’m Alana Rivers. I’m so glad you called. Let’s have a look, shall we?” 

McGee smiled and followed her inside the house. Tim looked around the foyer and took notice first of the stairs in front of him, the living room to his left and the dining room at his right. He looked around the first floor while the realtor followed him, pointing out selling points. 

“There is hard wood throughout the house. The three bedrooms have new carpet, the kitchen upgraded with stainless steel, a large refrigerator and a self-cleaning oven. The fireplace in the living room is gas and the electrical and plumbing has passed all inspections.”

McGee walked upstairs and looked at the two bedrooms. He tried to imagine his bedroom set in the larger of the two rooms. He returned downstairs; his mind already saying that he wanted the house. He wondered where the third bedroom she was talking about could be. As he inspected the bottom floor, he found French doors that lead to another brightly lit bedroom. The bedroom had a door that led outside and he thought it would be perfect for an office. 

“You have pets, Mr. McGee?”

Tim looked to her and smirked. “Yes, I do. Jethro, he’s a, uh, retired military drug dog; German shepherd.”

The woman’s eyes lit up and she smiled. She led him over to a window that looked into the backyard. “I’m sure that he’ll love this backyard. The privacy fence was just completed with weather resistant panels that won’t warp in the summer’s head and won’t rot in the spring rain.” She turned to him one last time. “So, Mr. McGee, you’ve seen the house. I’ve talked to the listing agent and so far, there are no other offers on the house.”

“Well,” Tim looked around the kitchen for a moment. He couldn’t bring a child into his small apartment. The child deserved more than that; he wanted to give it more than a small one-bedroom apartment. “I think I will make an offer.”

“Great, I’ll do up some paperwork and calculate the minimum down payment if the seller takes your offer…”

“That won’t be necessary. I’m not worried about a minimal down payment.” His fortune from Deep Six and Rock Hollow would pay off in the journey he now embarked on.

* * *

Two days later, McGee was once again sitting behind his desk. He had a webpage up on his computer and he was concentrating on its contents. He was studying the home study which he would soon begin and was researching the process. He hoped that he would have news on whether he would be in the middle of a move when the first interview would be scheduled. He was growing more and more concerned as he found web pages that differed on the estimation length of time they completed a home study in. One page had said six to twelve months; another had said six to eight months. The latest page said three to six months. He groaned in frustration, catching the attention of Ziva.

“Something wrong, McGee?”

Ziva had been sitting behind her desk reading _To Kill a Mockingbird_. She lowered the book when she heard the frustrated growl from McGee. She hot to her feet and walked toward him as he frantically started pressing the mouse button. She joined his side and looked down to him and then to his computer screen. She returned her gaze as she saw a photograph of a dog on two feet skiing down a slope of snow.

“What are you doing over here?” She asked, looking back to the computer screen. 

“Nothing.” McGee answered almost immediately.

“Are you looking at dirty internet websites?”

“What?” McGee asked suddenly. “No, are you kidding?”

Ziva smiled and turned to sit on the corner of his desk. He still looked rather nervous about whatever it was he was looking at that had gained a frustrated growl from the resident geek. “Actually, I was.”

“You were looking at internet porn?”

Ziva cocked her head to the side, a small playful smile crossed her lips. She could tell that he was both serious and impressed at the thought she might look at sexual material while at work and in full view of any agents walking by her desk.

“No. I was kidding about you looking at it.”

“Oh,” McGee said, his ears turning pink slightly. “Sorry.”

“What then? You were looking at a dog skiing and that caused your sigh of increasing anger?”

“Did you say, dog skiing?” Ziva laughed and pointed to his computer screen. “Oh, heh. No… but I should send this to Tony. Maybe have Abby superimpose his face on it.”

He was trying to distract her from the question she asked, she could tell. Which most likely meant that he wasn’t ready to talk about whatever it was. 

“Are you dating someone, McGee?”

Time looked up at her and blinked blankly. “No. Why?”

“I have not seen you look so… disheveled. It is almost like you are suddenly having troubles concentrating on work.”

Tim sat back in his chair and looked up to her. Ziva was still perched on the edge of his desk, her legs swinging back and forth haphazardly. It felt as if she was still prying into why he had made such a strange outburst. 

“Ziva, we aren’t working a case.” McGee pointed out. 

“I know that. Usually when we are not working a case you are down with Abby or defending yourself against Tony. You did not even move when he was shooting paper triangles at you.”

“Footballs, paper footballs, and he wasn’t throwing paper footballs at me.” McGee said. 

“But if he were, would you have noticed? You have been glued to your computer all morning. What are you doing?”

He still hadn’t decided on when he would tell everyone his plan to adopt. His family didn’t even know yet, and he’d written about all of them in his letter. He couldn’t figure out if he feared what they would say or scared of them not supporting him. He was sure that they would. Hadn’t it been his teammates who had helped him prove that his sister was innocent even though they thought she was guilty? Didn’t they help him out when he thought he’d shot the Metro cop? They had stood by him before. Why did he think this time would be different?

“Alright, I’ll tell you.” McGee was cut off by his cell phone ringing. He picked it up and smiled to Ziva apologetically. “McGee.”

He immediately became quiet and stiff as he listened to the person on the other end of the phone. Ziva distracted herself from watching him so it wouldn’t appear that she was eavesdropping. She tried not to get more curious as she heard his side of the conversation. His yea’s and mhmm’s filled the quiet squad room. 

“Really?” He suddenly said, his voice filled with excitement. “Yes! Thank you.” He paused again, an enormous grin spread across his face. “Great. I’ll see you at five o’clock.” 

He hung up his phone, jumped to his feet, grabbed Ziva’s cheek and kissed her square on the lips. He released her, his hands held over his head, continuing to cheer. 

“What’s up with McGee?” Tony asked, walking in with an armful of food and drinks.

“I do not know but he is apparently very happy.” Ziva said, grazing her fingertip along the line of her bottom lip.

* * *

“McGee with a house.”

“I see nothing wrong with McGee buying a house.” Ziva said, setting another box just inside the front door.

“It’s McGee. It’s a house.”

“McGee can not wish to live in a house?”

“That isn’t the point.”

“Then what is the point, Tony?”

The pair had returned to the small moving truck to get the last bit of furniture. The weekend had finally arrived and the team had all gotten together to help McGee move into his house. Abby and Palmer had stayed behind at his apartment to clean it up while Tony, Gibbs and Ziva helped McGee unload the small U-Haul trailer. 

“No bachelor owns his own house.” Tony theorized. 

Ziva and Tony took either side of McGee’s writing desk and hoisted it out of the trailer and toward the front door. Ziva had accidentally made Tony knock into the door frame as she tried to turn too quickly. She smiled softly and tried her best to give him the innocent look she’d mastered. 

“Gibbs has a house.” She told him as they set the desk in the middle of the living room. 

“Gibbs is not a bachelor.” Tony heaved as he slid his way down the wall and landed on his butt. Ziva joined him against the wall to catch her breath and gazed around the room now lined with boxes on top of boxes. 

“He is single.”

“Gibbs isn’t single.” Ziva looked to Tony in shock. No one had told her that Gibbs was dating someone. “He’s divorced.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not exactly happy with this chapter but it needed to be done. Also, remember that this was originally written about 8 years ago so McGee's family is not canon.

A month had passed since McGee bought his new house, and he had almost completed the final touches. His office had successfully been set up in the downstairs bedroom. He spent most of his downtime in the room either playing his video games or writing while gazing into the backyard as Jethro chased the birds who were simply trying to take a bath in the small birdbath that Ducky had given him. The brand new dining room set in the dining area. In the living room, a living room set, purchased by the rest of the team. Palmer had even bought him a huge pet bed for Jethro.

The only room that had yet to be put together was the one he’d planned as a nursery. He knew that once he started putting that room together, everyone was bound to find out about his adoption process. He’d decided to paint the room a pale green color. It was the only room he wanted to repaint, but he wanted to wait until he completed his home study.

In the month McGee had already had the first of three visits for his home study. He had begged forgiveness for the house being full of boxes, and the only place to sit was his computer chair in the office. He explained that he’d only just moved in a few days before. She had said that it was fine.

McGee sat in his living room, watching the clock nervously. He’d fell into Tony’s old habit of hiding the truth and coming up with reasons to leave work early. Today he’d told Gibbs that he had to take Jethro to the vet for his shots. He was waiting for his case worker to arrive for his second home visit. He’d become even more nervous about this visit when she told him she’d have more in-depth questions for him.

He sighed heavily, trying to calm his nerves. Jethro was lying in front of the fireplace. He got to his feet and followed McGee as he walked into the kitchen. McGee turned and walked back into the living room, Jethro following behind the entire way. He picked up the throw pillows and beat his hands against them for the tenth time since he’d gotten home 30 minutes before. McGee put the pillows back down and sat down on the couch again. He’d barely sat down when he got to his feet again and went to the mantle to rearrange the photos he had sitting atop it.

Finally, McGee heard the doorbell ring. He sighed again, straightened his jacket and went to answer the door, Jethro following him the whole way. Tim opened the door and greeted the woman standing opposite him.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Warner. Come on in.” She smiled as she walked in and was greeted by Jethro sniffing around her heels.

“Sorry.” McGee apologized. “Jethro, outside.” The dog continued to sniff, stopped and looked up to Tim for a moment. “Outside.”

The woman was impressed as Jethro turned and walked toward the kitchen area. She followed McGee into the living room and took the seat he’d offered her. She unpacked her small briefcase as she looked around the living room.

“Wow, Tim. This place looks amazing.”

“Thanks,” He grinned, feeling some of his nervousness pass. “I had a lot of help. My coworkers got together and bought the living room set.” His hand unconsciously trailed down the back of the couch as if wiping off non-existent dog hair or lint.

“Well, I have a couple questions for you and then I’d love to see the rest of this beautiful house.” She said, opening a small legal pad.

Tim nodded his head, the nervousness returning slightly. He wanted to be as honest as he could. He’d come across some example of questions he’d be asked. It had helped for him to think about the answers and think of some other things he’d need to do.

“Tell me about your family, Tim.”

McGee sat forward slightly and shifted his feet as he prepared to answer her question about his family. They were nothing special, at least not to the outside world, but these were people that would be related to any child place in his home and given his name.

“Uh, well.” He cleared his throat quickly in another attempt to cover and calm his nerves. “Most of my family doesn’t live around here. My father moved to Virginia after graduating college. He’s a, uh, Child Psychologist. He met my mother at his office.”

Ms. Warner nodded and looked down to her legal pad and started making some notes while Tim spoke. McGee noticed that she began to write and his heart rate increased as the realization of what he’d just said hit him.

“My mother was his uh, assistant, I guess would be the term now. She made appointments, handled patient records. They still work together, 32-years next month. My sister is starting her senior year at Waverly, Lit Major.”

“What about your grandparents?” She asked, writing things down.

“It’s just my father’s parents; they live in Maine.”

“So, of your family, who would be the closest for support?”

“Sarah, my sister. She lives on campus, fifteen minute drive.”

“Literature Major, huh?” She smiles, looking up to him from her tablet. “Flocking away from the pack?”

“Well, no. My mother studied literature. She works with my dad in the day and writes at night. She writes under a pen name, she does pretty well too.”

“So it was just you and your sister growing up?” Tim nodded. “How did you like growing up with a younger sister?”

Tim thought about this question for only a moment before he spoke, his nervousness slipping away into ease. “I was already seven when Sarah was born. I guess the idea of having a little sister wasn’t something I liked back then. You know, feeling that I’d have to fight for attention from my parents. After Sarah was born, my father took an extra case to spend time with me. We would go to movies or go to the riving range; he even enrolled me in Little League. My parents were at every game,” He laughed lightly. “They even dressed Sarah up in a little cheerleading outfit. Having a little sister wasn’t bad after all.” He smiled.

“I guess family is very important to you then. You wouldn’t believe how common it is that elder children fear that we will forget them with the addition of another child. Have you considered how you would explain to a child if you were to adopt another child in a few years or have your own?”

“I don’t think blood is the only way to make a family. I mean, I would love to have my own children someday-“

“Uh, I’m sorry to interrupt, but some mothers are opposed to some… preferences.”

Tim had found this question in the list of possibilities. At first he’d found it politically unimportant in the adoption process, but he accepted it as part of the many questions that total strangers would ask him when they’d learn that he’d adopted a child as a single man.

“Sexual preferences.” She looked at him, unfazed by the bluntness of his statement. “I date women, well when I date someone. I don’t really come across a lot of prospects.”

“Why is that? You’re successful, polite, and attractive. I think most women would find your type a dying breed.”

Tim laughed a little. “I guess it’s difficult to meet interesting women that I don’t already work with.”

“Yes, tell me about your work.”

“Well, I’m a Special Agent at NCIS Navy Yard here in D.C. It’s interesting work really, but I’m mainly what Tony calls the geek. I do a lot of the computer related work on cases and the work as Field Agent.”

“Tony is a coworker? Tell me about them.”

“Our ream is mainly a group of four: Tony, Gibbs, Ziva and myself. There also Abby, Ducky, and Palmer. It’s kind of working family. They’re all pretty important to me. I couldn’t do my job without them.”

The rest of the interview had gone by rather quickly. She’d asked more about his youth and education, why he had decided on his chosen career, and his views on raising a child. As she was leaving, she asked him to get together his financial records, health records and a few other documents that she needed for his file. She had explained that even though he was a federal employee, they needed to perform a background check on him.

***

McGee was busy doing some research on a cold case they had assigned the team when a body of a missing Naval Dependent was unburied. Ziva and Tony were also busy doing some work at their own desks. Gibbs had gone to check with Abby while they worked. The room was filled with the soft voices of other agents and Tony and Ziva’s bickering when Tim’s cell phone rang.

“McGee.” He answered.

“Tim, Alicia Warner. How are you coming on those documents?” Her voice sounded chipper.

“Oh, uh, hi. Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m working on those.” Tim turned his back to his teammates, known that Tony, at least, would do his best to listen in on Tim’s private call.

“Well, I could use those documents as soon as possible.” She paused. “I’ve been looking over your home study so far and it is going very well. I also wanted to get the study complete because…”

Tim’s heart plummeted. He knew that the sooner he finished his home study, the sooner they could match him with a child. Although, having a woman pick his file over the many others could take months.

“At the completion of your home study… you’ve already been selected by an expectant mother.”

“Are you serious?” Tim’s voice called suddenly.

Tony and Ziva exchanged glances behind Tim’s back. “Timmy has a new girlfriend.”

“Shut up, Tony.” Ziva said sharply and continued to watch the back of his head.

Tim suddenly turned toward them, closing his phone. She could see that he was trying to hold back something. He was smiling. The grin was jumping off his face in his excitement. He was very excited about whatever he’d been told on the telephone.

“Everything alright, McGee?” Ziva asked.

“Everything is great.” McGee cried.

“What’s so great, Timmy?” Abby asked, joining the group with Gibbs.

Tim’s smile widened as he stood in front of the group. The four pair of eyes bore into him; the time was upon him. They would not let him get away with just grinning like a Cheshire can and saying nothing else.

“Are you going to keep them in suspense or are you going to tell us so we can get back to work?” Gibbs asked as he sat down behind his desk.

“I’m going to be a father.” Tim said, his smile as big as ever.


End file.
